This is a first. Of sorts.
He has seen this lingerie and dress before, but never in the flesh, never up close on my bed in the light of day.
Desiring eyes momentarily drive my nervousness away as I lie on my side, the fabric bunching around my thighs, his hand travelling along my legs, taking in the texture of the denim, the silkiness of the lace, the soft swell of my breast.
Smiling hungrily, he reaches back, producing the camera, small and light, beginning once again with the very form that brought us together.
“Don’t be shy,” he tells me. “Show yourself.”
But words seem to fail me. There are merely two circling my mind.
(Remember to knock on Osbasso’s door to see this week’s gorgeous players…)